


Mistletoes

by DashingApostate



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 04:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3963829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DashingApostate/pseuds/DashingApostate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt Fill - Mistletoe</p><p>Modern AU. Anders tries very hard to catch Hawke under a mistletoe at his Christmas party, but ends up standing with Fenris instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoes

**Author's Note:**

> All of the food in this was taken from the World of Thedas volume 2! Which has adorable recipes that sound both delicious and at times a bit disconcerting. Thanks for reading! :>

\- - -

The first mistletoe had been a success.

But, not in the way that Anders had hoped for; as it wasn't a success for him.

Bethany had walked in, face alight with her familiar warmth and wearing one of a matching set of hideously adorned Christmas sweaters that her and her brothers sported each year. Above her head, on a beam that had been ridiculously difficult for Anders to reach that morning, was one of the five bunches of mistletoe he had placed throughout the apartment.

Sebastian was standing a few steps away, his bright eyes lighting up at the opportunity. But someone else had seen it first, someone more observant, more tactful than the so-called 'prince'.

As he made his way purposefully toward her – Bethany's face coloring in realization as her elder brother's warning laughter brought her eyes upward – the prince was cut off, barely side-stepping as Isabela swept the girl up, bending her at the waist to plant a long, loud kiss on her shocked lips. Whoops and whistles settled around them, along with Hawke's booming laughter and Carver's exclamation of, “Oh, for the love of – that's enough, woman!”

Anders had been disappointed, but he appeased himself with the knowledge that there was still time, still opportunity.

That, and he took no small pleasure in watching Sebastian sulk.

The second mistletoe was also a success, in its way.

But - _again_ \- not a success for Anders.

Another Hawke twin had found himself standing below a sheaf of green leaves and red berries hanging from one of the strings of gold tinsel that decorated the ceiling. Carver had not noticed, too busy piling his plate full of the wide variety of dishes brought by each guest; the mistletoe having been strategically placed above the table for this very reason.

Anders wanted to groan in frustration.

Merrill's dish – a colorful assortment of earthy spices and even a few spring-mixed flowers – was clearly a favorite of the twin's; as it was what he had been in the process of covering the majority of his plate in when he butchered the complement he had been attempting to pay the Dalish elf standing to his right, busy refilling her cup of dandelion wine.

He had cursed to himself and looked away at the same moment that Varric had so kindly pointed a silent finger upward - catching Merrill's attention. When Carver went to give his pathetic complement a second go, he was met with a quick peck to his cheek, and an innocent smile that spoke of the elf's complete obliviousness to what such a thing might just mean to him.

The third mistletoe – well, it definitely wasn't a success – and it was not what Anders had had in mind at all.

Hawke had found it, pointing to its place hanging from a light fixture with a wide grin set on his face. He had stepped under it with a ridiculous waggle to his eyebrows – made more ridiculous as the man was wearing that bright green and red sweater, complete with protruding puffs and bells in the shape of an 'H' – arms held wide as he offered himself to whoever willing.

Anders had felt a swell in his chest, ready to throw himself into those arms, weaving his way through the party with too much haste, banging a shin on some treacherous piece of wooden furniture and swearing loudly – _“Andraste's knickerweasels!” –_ a bottle of red wine displacing from its perch and threatening to stain the floor of his apartment, but being nimbly retrieved from the air out of the corner of his eyes.

By who, he did not know, couldn't be bothered to notice as his gaze was making quick work of refocusing on Hawke's open arms, which were busy wrapping themselves around – of all the bloody things in the world – his _mabari._ The dog clearly having launched himself at the man with an all too familiar single-minded adoration, knocking him to the floor and covering his grinning face with disgusting, slobbery licks.

The fourth mistletoe didn't succeed or fail at anything, as Anders had ripped it from the ceiling later in the evening while he went about the task of cleaning up the mess of the dwindling party, throwing it into an old box with a sad scowl.

The fifth mistletoe – he had forgotten about completely.

It's placement had been a hasty, haphazard afterthought; without the planning and care that went into the first four. His attention had been caught by the insistent knocking of an early-to-arrive Aveline and Donnic, and he had hung it up in his kitchen on his way to let them in.

Anders did not remember or notice as he stood below it, his hands plunging into the scalding hot water that filled his sink, scrubbing at the glass dish that had housed his traditionally spiced golden-apple pie.

The light padding of bare feet on his linoleum floor drew his startled attention up in time to see Fenris strolling forward, half empty wine bottle in hand.

_Brilliant. Just the way I wanted to end my Chrsitmas._

“You know,” Anders said as he pulled his hands from the soapy water. “ 'You can let yourself out' generally means that you leave someone's place, not go off and get drunk under one of their tables.”

What Fenris said next made little sense and Anders' initial reaction was to believe the elf mocking him.

“Mistletoe.”

Anders wrung his hands over the water and turned to fix the other man with a scowl. “Yes, I hung mistletoe. So clever of you to notice – “

His words were silenced by the press of a soft mouth, hot tongue pushing past his startled lips to slide in the taste of red wine and spiced golden apples.

Anders found his lower back meeting the damp contours of his sink as the hard line of Fenris' body connected with his, the warm ghosting of a palm at the back of his neck followed by an abrasive pull of fingers driving their faces closer. Anders let loose a soft sound in his throat, his lips slanting the slightest bit down to meet the other man's bruising mouth, his knees developing a sudden difficulty in holding his weight.

It was only after the elf had pulled away – a light grazing of teeth over Anders' bottom lip – fixing him with a heated look, followed by a soft, “Merry Christmas, mage.” that he had remembered the fifth mistletoe.

As Fenris made his way to the door, taking another long pull of wine; Anders trailed a thumb over the bitten line of his lower lip that was threatening to form a smile. Perhaps the forgotten mistletoe had been an unexpected success after all.

\- - -

 


End file.
